


The Thomas Wayne Chronicles

by pjlowry



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Flashpoint (Comics), Justice League: The Flashpoint Paradox
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-09-22 23:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17069618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjlowry/pseuds/pjlowry
Summary: With his son in the grave and his wife committed to Arkham, Thomas Wayne has no choice to but move forward or be consumed by the darkness...





	1. Chapter 1

When they entered the alley through the back door from the theatre, it was more of a shame than an incontinence as they play they had left was just getting to Thomas' favorite part. Yet his son was only ten years old, so he had to understand that not all kids his age could appreciate something as amazing and articulate as the opera. So when Bruce had asked to leave early, Thomas Wayne had relented. His son had a bad fall just a week earlier, so both he and his wife had been babying the boy just a bit more than usual. Martha had been extra touchy, hugging and kissing the boy to the point where it was almost embarrassing. Thomas put an arm around his son's shoulders, just to save him from anther barrage of affection from his mother. Despite their early exit from the theatre, they were all still in a rather good mood. Thomas was seriously considering taking the family out for ice-cream on the way home, but the thought was dashed as quickly as a man came out of the darkness and pointed a gun at them.

"I don't want to hurt you," the man said, his voice shaking. "Just give me your wallet, your purse and all your jewelry!"

Thomas raised his hands, and took a step to the side to protect his child with his own body. "I'll give you anything you want, please don't hurt anyone."

"Just hurry up!" the crook called out, as he grew impatient.

"I'm getting it now," Thomas said as he pulled out his wallet and offered it to the man with the gun.

The man instead was looking at the pearl necklace that was hanging around Martha's neck. He reached out for it and that's when things took a turn for the worse. Thomas' rage got the best of him and he grabbed the man's arm and proceeded to crack the man in the face with a hard right punch. The punch was solid, sending the crook staggering back several feet. Once the fog was gone, the man pointed the gun at Thomas and tried to shoot him. With amazing cat like reflexes, Thomas shifted to his left the bullet missed him. Thomas charged the man and slapped the gun out of his hand, which sent it flying into the wet pavement. Without hesitation or regard for his oath as a doctor, Wayne started to beat the man as if he as Mike Tyson. Attacking both the body and head, Thomas started to beat that piece of filth as if he owned him money. With each punch, Thomas' hands started to bruise and even show traces of blood as the crook's face was bleed from his nose and lip. He had beaten the man half to death when a loud cry caught Thomas' attention.

It was Martha, and that cause her husband to turn back to see what had happened. Martha was on her knees but she seemed unharmed, but it was the boy lying on the ground that caused the man's heart to skip a beat. There was only one shot, and it hit the boy. Thomas dropped the man like a sack of potatoes and he came running down the alley to give his son medical attention. Wayne checked the boy and it was brutal. The shot had hit him clean in the middle of his chest and he was bleeding badly. Thomas did everything he possibly could to stop the bleeding but it was out of control.

"Martha, find someone to call an ambulance!" Thomas ordered, but there was no response from his wife. She was clearly in shock, and that was perfectly normal considering the trauma she was experiencing.

"Martha, snap out of it!" Thomas called out again, and still no response.

Thomas continued to work on the boy, but his heart had stopped beating. He started to give the child CPR but after doing that for what seems like an hour but was only ten minutes, it was over. Any other person in the O.R. would have been declared dead in half that time after they flat lined. Thomas stopped working on the boy and instead took the small hand beside him into his own. That was always his favorite part, holding the boy's hand and marveling at how much smaller it was in comparison. Now that hand was cold, and dead. A tear ran down Wayne's face as he had to accept the horrible truth that his child was gone.

Martha was on her knees on Bruce's other side, as still as a statue with her hand up to her mouth. As she pulled her hand away she was stunned to realize that her son's blood was all over it. She had placed the hand over her mouth, and now his blood was all around her mouth as well, looking like someone did a terrible paint job on her face. She continued to stay on her knees, looking at the blood on her hand and then she made a sound. At first Thomas thought she was crying, but as the sound became louder and louder with each passing second he realized she was doing something else entirely.

She was laughing.

Laughing like an evil villain out of the movies, dark and sinister.

He stared at the woman who was now grinning from ear to ear... mocking the very tragedy that layed before them. Thomas looked across at her with a look of shock in his own face now as he watched the woman continue to laugh endlessly as if this entire ordeal was nothing more than a sick joke. As a doctor Thomas had no trouble diagnosing what had happened to the woman he loved: her brain had snapped like a twig. The only thing he saw in her future was a one way ticket to Arkham. In a matter of minutes and a single gunshot, Thomas had lost his entire family.

She was still laughing when the police arrived on the scene. The crook had fled the scene and was nowhere to be found. Bruce watched as the boy was placed into a stretcher and fully covered with the white sheet. He then watched in horror as the woman was being dragged kicking and screaming to the car, even biting one of the officers and then laughing at his blood too. Once both cars had taken off, Thomas was taken away by one of the officers so that he could make a statement at the station. The long night was only just beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

Thomas sat there in the middle of the police station. He was surrounded by desks as many criminals were being checked in and out, processed or released. It had been raining so one of the officers had put a blanket around his shoulders as Thomas was being brought into the station. He was also holding a mug that was filled with the most awful coffee he had ever drunk, but it was warm. He waited patiently until someone finally sat down beside him. The man was rather close to Thomas' age, was wearing glasses and tried to be friendly as he sat down.

"Would you like a refill?" he softly asked.

"One is enough," Thomas replied, "I believe a second mug is cruel and unusual punishment, which is against the Geneva Conventions."

"Yeah, it's quite bad." The man admitted, "Sorry about that."

"It's fine," Thomas said, as he really didn't care.

"Mr. Wayne," the man said, trying to get back on track. "My name is Detective Jim Gordon. I just need to take your statement and we'll get you out of here as soon as possible."

"You're not charging me?" Thomas asked.

"No, we're not." Gordon replied, pausing for a moment. "The man attacked you and your family. I probably would have done the same in your shoes."

"Are you sure about that?" Thomas asked. "I probably wouldn't do the same thing if I had a chance to do it over."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Wayne." Gordon said, sighing. "I can't imagine what you're going through."

"Where's my wife?" Thomas asked, wanting to change the subject.

"She's at Gotham General," Jim replied, "She's been admitted to the psych ward, and she'll be treated there. She will not see Arkham unless it's absolutely necessary."

"It might be necessary," Thomas said, taking the last gaud awful sip out of his mug. "Her mind snapped like a twig. She took that a lot worse than I did."

"We can take your statement later if you're tired," Gordon said, trying to be sympathetic to the man before him.

"No, that's alright." Thomas said, "I'd prefer to get it over with today rather than have to come back later. No offense, Jim."

"None taken," Jim said, trying to be supportive. "So you were watching the opera that night."

"Yes, but the show spooked my boy," Thomas replied, "So we left early and took the back entrance so our leaving wouldn't disrupt the show. Usually women get mad when you leave early, but Martha was very understanding. She's a good woman."

"So what happened next?" Jim asked him.

"That's when this punk came out of nowhere and stuck a gun in my face." Thomas said, as his voice shook as he remembered it. "He asked for my watch and my wallet and I told him he could have it. I never said no to him."

"So when did the fight begin?" Gordon asked him.

"He tried to grab Martha's pearls," Thomas answered, "I know they're just pearls but I gave them to her the day I proposed. It was a knee jerk reaction, I should have let that turd take them."

"So that's when you grabbed him?" Jim asked.

"I caught him off guard and clocked the bastard," Thomas explained, "He stumbled back and that's when I ran for him."

"And how many shots were fired?" Gordon inquired.

"Just one," Thomas informed him, "But that was all it took to change my world. He was aiming for me and I jumped out of the way. Biggest mistake I ever made."

"Excuse me?" Jim asked.

"He only got one shot off," Thomas explained, "And that was the one shot that killed my boy. If I knew that's where the bullet was going, I would have stood my ground and took it for him. I feel like such a coward, and now I've lost my only child."

"You said it yourself," Jim reminded him, "You didn't know where it was going. You were defending your child, and you were trying to stay alive for the sole purpose of protecting them. It's not your fault that you child died. The man who pulled the trigger is the only one to blame. I'm going to talk to the D.A. and make sure he gets the chair for this, and I hope he rots in hell for the pain he's caused you Mr. Wayne."

Thomas looked back at the detective. "I hope so too... but it won't make a difference. It won't bring back my boy... or my wife."

"She might recover," Jim said, trying to give hope. "She'll need your help."

"I'm a mess myself," Thomas admitted, "Things are never going to be the same."

"Time will help, Mr. Wayne." Gordon assured him, "Give it time."

"Do I need a lawyer?" Thomas said, realizing what he did to that thug.

"No Mr. Wayne, you do not." Jim answered, "In fact, you're free to go. You're not being charged with anything at this time. You were clearly defending yourself from an attacker. I will not recommend charges and I'm confident the D.A. won't either. We would however like your co-operation to prosecute the man that killed your son."

"You'll have it," Thomas muttered, "That you can count on."

"There's a man here to pick you up," Jim informed him, "He claims to work for you... Mr. Pennyworth?"

"Yes, that's my butler." Thomas said, as he had forgotten about him.

"I'm sorry for your loss Mr. Wayne," Gordon said as he stood up at the same time as Thomas did. He also handed over his card. "If you remember anything else, I can help you update your statement. If you need help with anything, please do not hesitate to ask."

Thomas reached over and took the card, and then seconds later he shook the man's hand. "Thank you, Jim."

Jim watched as the man walked away and out of the squad room. In the hallway leading outside there was a well dressed man standing there and he was holding an extra dry coat as he waited.

"Doctor Wayne," the man said as he held the coat open for him.

"Alfred," Thomas said as he took the blanket off and let it drop the floor before slipping his arms into the new coat. "Thank you for coming."

"I heard everything," the butler replied, "I'm so sorry. I wish I could have been there to help."

"I appreciate that Al," Thomas said, taking a deep breath. "Right now I want to go home and rest."

"Of course Doctor Wayne," Alfred replied as he gestured to the door. "I have a car waiting outside. Let's get you away from this horrid place."


	3. Chapter 3

Despite the efforts of his best lawyers, Martha Wayne was committed to Arkham. Once there she was put under the highest security as she was deemed a threat to others as well as herself. She wasn't even granted a day pass to attend Bruce's funeral. Thomas was disappointed by the result of his efforts, but understood this decision was made without pride or prejudice. Martha's mind had snapped, and she had gone completely mental. Right now she wasn't safe to be around, and Thomas was sad about that as she wanted to give her a chance to say goodbye to her son.

Because of the legal jousting, Bruce's funeral was delayed a few weeks but eventually moved ahead almost a full month after he was shot. Thomas didn't mind the delay as it allowed him a chance to get his head straight so he could be cold as ice and not show emotion at the services. There were a lot of people attending the service as Bruce was put to ground at the small cemetery that was beside Wayne Manor. Thomas had considered burying him with Martha's family in town, but chose to keep him close so he could visit as often as he wanted. Many of the people there didn't even know Bruce, but where there to support Thomas in his darkest days. Thomas hadn't been back to work a single day, and that had people in the city as well on Wall Street talking about the stability of Wayne Enterprises.

It was a quick service, and when it was all over, people walked over to toss flowers into the plot or give their condolences to Thomas himself. There was only one other child at the funeral, a young girl that was Bruce's age. She walked over and took Thomas' hand and smiled up at him.

"I'm very sorry, Dr. Wayne." She said to him, "I liked Bruce very much."

"Thank you, Rachel." Thomas said, as that was the only time he was close to tears as he held the little girl's hand. "I liked him too."

Her mother quickly walked up because she thought the girl was bugging him.

"It's fine," Thomas said, as he actually appreciate the girl's support. "I wanted to speak with you anyway, Ms. Dawes."

"What is it, Dr. Wayne?" Rachel's mother asked.

"I have a trust fund that I started the day Bruce was born," Thomas explained, "I have been donating to it every month since he was born. I considered donating it to charity, but with your permission I'd like to give it to Rachel."

"Dr. Wayne!" her mother said, shocked. "Why do you want to do this?"

"I was saving it for Bruce's education," Thomas said, "I would still like it to be spent on higher learning, so I'd like to give it to Rachel so she doesn't have to worry about paying for her post-secondary education. She could go anywhere she wants if she puts the work in and that's what it was meant for."

"Thank you Dr. Wayne!" her mother said, giving him a hug.

"It's my pleasure," Thomas said as he then spotted someone else he wanted to speak with. "If you'll excuse me."

Thomas walked away from the Rachel and her mother, over to a blonde haired man that was around his age and wearing glasses.

"Thomas," the man said, as they shook hands. "My deepest condolences."

"Thank you, Earle." Thomas replied, "Thanks for covering my work over at the company in my absence. Your support and understanding is greatly appreciated. How are things going with our company?"

"I didn't come here to talk shop," Earle answered, trying to be respectful. "I don't think that would be appropriate."

"Probably not," Thomas agreed, "But I'm asking you, and I'm doing it now to save me the trip into town later to check in myself."

"Things are well," Earle informed him, "The initial shock from the incident is subsiding, and the counseling we brought in has helped a great deal. Is there anything specific you wanted to discuss?"

"Yes, there is." Thomas said as he took Earle's arm and walked him aside for a little privacy. "Do you remember that talk we had a few months ago. The one where I almost fired you for suggesting we take the company public on the stock market?"

"Yes, I do." Earle recalled, "You threw a chair at me."

"Well, I've had a change of heart." Thomas confessed.

"You have?" Earle asked, as he could hardly believe it.

"My priorities are changing," Thomas informed him, "So not only do I want you to take over as CEO in a more permanent basis, I want you take the company public like you had proposed months ago."

"What percent of the company would you like to open to the public?" Earle asked as Thomas now has his full attention.

"All of it," Thomas answered, "With share holders to answer to instead of me, the company will be in better hands and everyone's job will be more secure, don't you think?"

"Yes," Earle concurred, "Don't you want to keep a bit for yourself?"

"Not really," Thomas answered, "But I do have one request."

"Name it," Earle said, curious to what it might be.

"I want the employees of Wayne Enterprises to get first crack at the shares." Thomas informed him, "Give them a chance to invest in their own future if they want to, and then let the public consume what's left."

"Does that include the employees in the front office?" Earle asked.

Thomas smiled as he knew what Earle meant. "You've been a good friend, so yes you deserve a crack at it as much as anyone else does."

"You're going to make billions," Earle reminded him, "Tens, maybe hundreds of billions if the shares go for the right price. The fact that you're doing this might even drive them higher because you're putting the company above yourself. That in itself is an act of brilliance, and is a hell of a way to go out."

"I honestly don't care what you think about it," Thomas chided back, "All I want to know is can you do it, and how soon can it happen?"

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Earle asked, "I get this was my idea, but are you sure you want to let go of your legacy like this?"

"My legacy?" Thomas said, his tone becoming a tad harsher. "What the hell do you know about my legacy? Wait, I'll tell you what you know about my legacy: Jack and shit, and Jack left town. Everything I've done, every penny I scraped away was all for one person, and we just put him in the fucking ground! Without him, there is no legacy! No reason for me to keep running this company, because its sole purpose was for it to be handed down to him! Without Bruce, this company has no value to me. No meaning and no inspiration to carry on. So take it public and sell it all off! I want nothing to do with this company anymore! Understood?"

"Understood," Earle replied, not wanting to anger him anymore. "I can have it set up and done within a month. Will that be acceptable?"

"It will be," Thomas said, calming down a bit with a deep breath. "Thanks for coming Earle. Don't you dare set a single foot inside my fucking house; get your ass back to Wayne Tower and start up the paper work right now."

"Yes, Mr. Wayne." Earle said without hesitation. Dis-inviting him from the reception after the service made it quite clear that Thomas didn't want him there.

Thomas watched as Earle left the small cemetery and went back to his car instead of inside the manor like everyone else. As he watched the car drive away, Thomas took a deep breath and started to walk into the house himself. Things were changing, so he would have to change as well. With one less enterprise to worry about and more money than God, Thomas had the ability to select what kind of change he wanted to be and had all the time in the world to think about it.


End file.
